


The Idea

by ValkySin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Gen, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, My First Fanfic, POV John Watson, POV Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 09:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1299904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValkySin/pseuds/ValkySin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fanfic from sherlocks and johns point of view. Eventual Johnlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Idea

**Author's Note:**

> This is my ever first piece after discovering the wonderful world of fanfic only a couple months ago. its in progress, Im not too sure where its going, I just started writing one depressing and sleepless night and it seemed to flow. I have a small idea of where im headed. Angsty, fluffy possibly smutty stuff to come. Im sorry if I dont keep them well enough to character. Feedback would be appreciated as this little starter is just to test the waters of how I go writing fanfic and some guidance would be great as I dont know anyone who writes fanfic. I have no beta or anything so please excuse grammar and spelling errors and let me know :)

SHERLOCK  
\------------

He rolled over begrudgingly opening one eye to scan the darkened room, sleep obviously wasn't coming easy tonight, one of those fitful throw yourself around type of sleeps where you’re never fully asleep and ended up aching and sweating all over from the sub conscious effort. The TV in the sitting room threw flashes of shadow across the walls and the faint hum of voices trailed over the fan running in the room. Always preferring to leave the TV on low for the noise when he knew it would be a fitful sleep. He let out a frustrated sigh throwing back the blankets and heaving himself off the bed to pee, for what seemed liked the millionth time that night. “ too much bloody tea” he muttered aloud to the room silently damning John for his perfection in the art of making Tea as he shuffled to the bathroom.

Leaving the bathroom he decided there was no point in going straight back to the struggle that was sleep, instead heading to the sofa and defeatedly dropping down on to it. Pushing his palms into his face and rubbing his eyes he leaned out and picked up a cigarette. Lighting it and watching the blue grey tendrils of smoke twist out across the room he wondered what was needed to quieten his speeding thoughts, he knew John would chastise him for smoking in the flat, he had a nose like a bloodhound. Pointless, Irrelevant and unhelpful thoughts that always seemed to be in the back of his mind somewhere, dormant while awake but jumping into the front lines when he was laying in bed willing sleep to overcome him after being awake for...well he usually lost track. Unconnected and impertinent garbage that never helped to think about.

Finishing the second cigarette and peeing for the umpteenth time he wondered how he would usually deal with this situation, drugs usually, the vein warming fire of a plethora of drugs usually stilled his mind enough to shut it all off at times like this. But that was not available, his anger at himself for not being able to shut off his mind at his own will was the usual reaction. he never has ever since he was a teenager. After Doctors stopped prescribing the medications for sleep and depression as a teen he was left to his own devices, the only fall back offered was more prescriptions. Useless brain stopping drugs, left you a zombie with only the most basic functions, sleep, eat and breathe. At least the alternatives he had found still left his mind able to function, albeit at a slower and fuzzier rate, he was still able to think and be somewhat himself. The prescriptions never allowed for that. He has always reached for something to quell the raging swell in his mind, if only for a temporary rest from the constant that was his mind.

JOHN  
_____________

John clomped his way up the steps of 221B feeling every bit of haggard as he knew he looked. A hard day at the surgery filling in for a sick call had tested his wits, there had been no cases for two weeks now and he had to admit he may be going slightly insane working the mundane hours at the surgery to fill in time.. He wanted nothing more than a cup of tea and to read the paper in silence

 

Before he could reach out and turn the knob the door opened and Sherlock stood before him, his head cocked slightly to the left, his sharp eyes taking in and deducing every bit of John in the few seconds they stood there.

 

“hey Sherlock” john muttered softly pushing past him into the flat shrugging off his coat and placing his shoes near the wall. “ You should tell Mrs Phillips the perfume her husband bought her from France is a knockoff and a terrible cover for the assistant he is obviously sleeping with on his business trips…..also it smells atrocious” Sherlock announced following john into the kitchen. “How did y….” john started before stopping and deciding he was way too tired to bother asking how Sherlock knew. He just did. He always did. Flicking on the kettle and flipping two mugs down from the counter like it was a second habit he turned to Sherlock “ So you had a busy day i see” pointedly nodding his head towards the tall man still wrapped in his silk robe and pajama bottoms, hair slightly ruffled. “ ugh it’s all so DULL JOHN, the criminals in this city wouldn't know how to commit a decent crime if I showed them and included a slideshow” Sherlock said frustrated sweeping his arm toward the window.

John let out a huff of laughter “ Yes well I hope it hasn't resorted to you needing to do that yet” he said watching Sherlock throw himself on the sofa. “Nothing from Lestrade at all? “Nothing not a damn thing, I even asked him to send me cold case files and he said I've nearly made my way through the ones he has complete access to and to just take it easy” “TAKE IT EASY JOHN” he bellowed rising from the couch letting out a frustrated cry. “ How it must be nice to have a mind that allows one to take it easy” 

John sighed leaving Sherlock to his rant and making his way to his chair, settling in and letting out a contented sigh. This. This is what he has wanted all day. Just as Sherlock quietens on the sofa (probably deducing him from his position on the sofa for lack of anything better to do) he hears Sherlock's phone ring from somewhere inside the folds of the silk robe that held so many hidden places….NO.. that's enough John thought wrenching his eyes open to look over at Sherlock now pacing the room demanding things John didn't really hear into his phone. His mind had wandered a little too much lately, just small things, little inklings of curiosity about his apparently married-to-his-work flatmate.

Sherlock snapped his phone shut and whirled around to face John “ HA BRILLIANT, a triple murder John!, Lestrade needs us right away details on the way” he said waving his hand dismissively about as he disappeared in a flurry of silk and blue into his bedroom. John sighed, tea would have to wait, he had to admit he was grateful something had come along, feeling the slight surge of adrenalin and sharpening of his wits. Well he thought, rising from his chair and draining the last few dregs of liquid from his cup, at least if things are dull they are never dull for very long around one Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
